


Descendants of the Champions

by EasternStarling (Solaris00), Solaris00



Category: Legend of Zelda, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Angst I guess, Au where Link doesn't wake up, Other, POV Multiple, The ex-champions, UPDATED (kinda), the new champions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2020-02-10 11:00:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18659095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solaris00/pseuds/EasternStarling, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solaris00/pseuds/Solaris00
Summary: In an alternate universe where the Hylian Champion doesn't wake up from the Shrine of Ressurection to stop Calamity Ganon, it is up to the descendants of the other champions to defend Hyrule--but they are young and inexperienced, and the task has suddenly been forced upon them. Will they be able to rally to fight Ganon? And will they succeed?





	1. Teba

The day Vah Medoh came back was the one day I had decided to pause my training and spend time with my family. I had nearly perfected the move that the late champion of Rito Village had dubbed ‘Revali’s Gale,’ and my bow’s speed had never been faster. After years of training with the other Rito Warriors, Saki had managed to convince me that I could take a break, that Rito could last without me for one day. I had believed her. 

We were both wrong. 

Saki was standing over the cooking pot, wafting the delicious aroma of her famous nutty meat skewers with her soup ladle, humming a soft song as she stirred, lost in thought. She was always so beautiful when her mind was somewhere else, captured by imaginative dreams or treasured memories. 

“I’m thinking of the ocean today,” she told me serenely as I laid a wing on her back, running the tips of my feathers over her shoulders. Tulin was playing in the grasses below our roost, excitedly entrapping butterflies in the folds of his wings, and I periodically glanced out the window to make sure he was still where I could see him. 

“The ocean, huh?” I said. I did enjoy hearing her thoughts. She managed to drum up places I would never give a second glance to and make them sound beautiful. 

“Yes--would you pass me the goat butter please?” I moved towards the counter as she continued. “Mimo told me about it one time, about how it’s even bigger than the sky itself, and bluer. He said it sparkled in the sunlight. I’d like to go see it sometime. We could stay at the Lurelin Village inn, maybe go fishing.” 

“We could go,” I said, absently agreeing with her as I passed over the butter. I had no desire of my own to see the water--the clouds were always where my heart lied--but she had a knack for drawing me in. 

She paused her stirring. “Oh, really, Teba?” Her eyes shimmered. 

“Well, er--I guess. I mean I’d have to make sure the warriors would be okay without me--and I’d have to gather my armor of course, I heard the path there is dangerous--and I would obviously have to have perfected the Gale before--” She was looking at me brightly, grinning as she gripped my wing tighter. “But yeah,” I finished reluctantly. “I guess we could go. Someday.” 

Saki squealed and turned back to the pot. “Oh, I can’t wait! I’d really have to keep up with my flying though, I heard the Lurelin females are very generous in showing their midriff. Would you hand me some milk and a little bit of… yeah, that, please.” 

I chuckled softly, and in the distance, I heard Tulin calling my name. I handed her the ingredients and peered over the railing to check on him, but my son had disappeared beyond sight. “Tulin?” I called down to him, but I couldn’t find any sign of his white-feathered back. I sighed. The boy would never learn to not run off. He would have to develop more discipline if he were to someday become a warrior. 

“Oh, goodness!” Saki exclaimed, yanking the pot off the fire that had begun to lick the edges of the metal. “The flames just caught so quickly. I hope I didn’t burn anything…” 

“I’m sure it’s fine, dear,” I reassured her, scanning for Tulin. He must have found a little crevice out of my sight somehow. “I’m going to go find Tulin for dinner. I’ll be right back,” I told Saki as I made my way out. 

“Sure, okay,” she replied distractedly, fanning the smoke that was rising from the inside of the pot. “This’ll be ready in just a moment.” 

I stepped on the boardwalk, looking both ways. He couldn’t have gotten too far. “Tulin?” I called. 

“Dad!” I heard him in the distance, down near the bottom of the steps. He didn’t sound hurt, exactly, but there was a note in his voice that spurred me forward. 

“Where are you?” I shouted, dodging a someone with barely a quick greeting, moving quickly down the stairs. Rito village was quite small, so the people were used to my swift movements through the walkways. I’m sure there were no hard feelings. 

“Dad!” Tulin called again, more desperate this time. I leaped down the bottom few stairs and just as I hit the landing--

The rock pillar _lurched_ violently, and I was thrown to the side as the whole structure trembled beneath my feet and rocks broke loose from an outcropping, crashing down towards me--

I grabbed the nearest Rito out of the way of a falling boulder and pulled him flat against the wall next to me. He stumbled into me, dazed. 

“Are you okay?” I raised my voice above the rumbling of the quake. It was Huck, I quickly identified. He ran the inn--nice fellow, if not a bit awkward. He nodded slightly and I caught his shoulder as he fell forward. “Stay here!”   
My talons pounding against splintered wood, I made my way out from the small shelter and down the last bit of boardwalk as the pillar bucked again. I had no time to think about what was happening as I raced across the grass, shouting my son’s name and listening hard for the response. I had no time to think about the shadow that had fallen overhead, or the distant roars of something that was definitely not… _natural_ that punctuated the thundering of tumbling rocks. 

Tulin was cowering in the crook of trees when I found him, wings thrown over his head. 

“Tulin!” I shouted, swooping over him and gathering him in my arms. I wildly looked around, trying to find our hut; from what I could see, it seemed like it had remained untouched, having narrowly missed the avalanche. I needed to get to Saki before anything worse could happen. 

“Dad,” Tulin whimpered in my arms. I gathered him closer to me as the ground shook. “It-it was huge, I couldn’t--” 

“It’s okay,” I told him as I searched the skies, trying to find the source of the earthquake. I had my bow on me--I must have grabbed it absentmindedly as I left the hut--but I knew it wouldn’t be enough to stop whatever this was from happening. “It’s okay.” 

“I saw it…” he whispered, eyes squeezed tightly shut. “It’s here, dad. It’s Vah Medoh.” 

 

I had told Tulin stories when he was even younger than he was now, as an impossibly tiny and innocent chick. I told him stories of the most powerful Rito champion, Revali, who flew in a bird made of metal and protected our village from evil.

Tulin had listened with wide eager eyes as I regaled him with tales of the divine beast called Vah Medoh that fought against Ganon in the final war, how its all-seeing eyes were able to detect the enemy with pinpoint precision and how it fired powerful beams of divine light to destroy all monsters in its path. We were both enraptured by this legendary beast, a being that had almost seemed too powerful and too great to be real. 

But it  _ was _ real. The terrifying screech impressed upon me the meaning of “bird of prey” like nothing had ever before, and as I huddled with my son in that small grove of trees, I had never felt more powerless. It was as if the very sound had broken my hard resolve into pieces with its wavelengths. It spoke to my most primal urge to run, to hide, to get as far away as I possibly could.

“Okay.” I gritted my teeth, steeling myself, reigning myself back in. I pulled Tulin closer to me, watching the falling rocks for any sign of an opening. “Son, listen to me. Hang on to me tightly, and whatever you do, don’t let go. Understand?” 

He nodded, his small, scared face peering out from between my feathers. 

“It’ll be just like when I take you flying, okay? Just close your eyes. There you go. Close your eyes, and hang on tightly.” 

I slowly extended one wing to the side, careful not to completely let go of him and took a breath. 

Decades of training has taught me more than how to see the updrafts, it’s taught me how to  _ feel _ them. How to sense the gusts of wind as if they were a part of my own being, how to catch the air under my wing effortlessly and soar into the sky. In the momentary breath between quakes, I could feel the wind billow and I plunged my son and I into the midst of it, and together we rode upwards, landing on the boardwalk almost 15 feet above us. 

“Saki!” 

My wife had found shelter in the corner of our place and she rushed towards me as I landed. 

“Teba, thank Hylia, I didn’t know…” 

“Are you okay?” I asked, running my free wing down her cheek to check for injuries as the pillar shook again. 

“I’m fine. Where’s Tulin?” she answered with a frown, leaning around me to look for him. 

I let him go from within my protective embrace, and he ran straight into the arms of his mother. “He’s here. He’s safe.” 

“What is this, Teba?” Saki asked me as she picked our son up, desperation lining her gaze. “What’s happening?” 

But before I could respond, Tulin cried out, “It’s Vah Medoh, Mom! He’s here!” 

I could tell Saki had recognized the name immediately. Everyone in the village had heard it from someplace, and, according to her questioning look of disbelief, she was obviously no exception. “Is it true?” she said with a hushed voice, as if the very topic was taboo. 

“I don’t know,” I said, despite the fact that I did know, and all too well. “Whatever it is, it’s dangerous. We all need to leave before the pillar collapses completely.” I began to herd them towards the exit. The nearest landing faced East, toward the plains, and I could already see others from the village gliding off the platform. From there, they could make a safe descent to the ground.

“Where are we going to go?” 

“Rito stable is not far from here,” I told her as we began our treacherous climb up the boardwalk. I was shielding them both with my wings, protecting them from the avalanche. I was bleeding in a few places, and I winced as a particularly large rock clipped me in the shoulder, but I ensured that Saki could not see the wound. “If that doesn’t work, then the flight range.” 

“Teba--” Saki started. We had reached the landing and I began guiding them towards the edge, the way the last of the stragglers were headed. She grabbed my wing. “Aren’t you coming with us?” 

I touched her face, smoothing the curls. Her lovely pink feathers were always so beautiful to me, like a rare flower that thrived in the wild. “Saki,” I said, hugging her once more. “I must protect our village, you know that.” 

“But--” she pleaded. 

“One day,” I promised, releasing her from my grip. “One day, we’ll make it to the ocean, okay?” 

“Teba!” she screamed, but I had already pulled away, and the next tremor pushed my wife and son, my only family, towards the edge of the landing. Before I could turn back for one last glimpse, they had taken flight and disappeared below the horizon line. 

Now that they were safe, all that was left was Vah Medoh. 

 

No longer encumbered with protection, I moved swiftly back to our roost on the upper ring, checking each roost for strays as I passed. 

Ours was in between the village Elder Kaneli’s, and Harth’s, my second. The Elder’s was empty, but I managed to catch a movement inside Harth’s roost as I grabbed my Feathered Edge and spare arrows. I had little need of a shield when I was soaring in the air--I was able to dodge most attacks by changing directions swiftly in the air. 

“Harth,” I said sharply, knowing my voice would carry through the timber limbs of my roost. “Is that you?” 

The bird in question snapped to attention at my voice, his armor plate strapped to his chest and bow slung over his shoulder. “Right here.” 

“What are you doing?” I sheathed my sword and ducked into his roost for temporary cover. “You aren’t--” 

“Planning to fight?” he finished with a grin. “Of course I am.” 

I pinned him with a glare. There had been many times in which I wanted to wipe that carefree smile off his face, and now was one of those times. He took serious matters all too lightly. “It’s dangerous.” 

He shrugged. “Only a little bit.” 

“You fool,” I cursed. “That’s  _ Vah Medoh  _ you’re talking about.” 

“Lighten up,” he chastised with a clap on my shoulder. “With that attitude, you’ll get shot down for sure.” 

“Hm.” I moved away, allowing his hand to slip. “Mollie made it out okay?” 

His smile dipped a little then, and I could understand why. Mollie was his only daughter, and the only connection with his late wife, Barsi, who passed away in childbirth a few years ago. He and Mollie often come over for dinner with us on the nights that feel too quiet. 

“Laissa’s taking care of her. She’ll be safe at the stable.” 

“Fine then.” I didn’t argue further. I supposed it would be better to have someone to watch my back, after all. I gestured toward the now deserted East Landing. “Let’s go.” 

He followed me out and down the boardwalk as we dodged back and forth between the falling rocks, which seemed simpler than skipping stones this time around. Harth kept up with me with ease, deftly avoiding gaping holes in the wood that had been caught by the avalanche. This was no problem for trained Rito Warriors like us, the few that were left. 

On the topic, “Will any of the others be joining us?” Harth called to me above the noise. 

I shook my head. “Mazli was closest to the stable, he should be receiving the flock there. I’m sure Verla would have stuck close to the Elder and Nekk… Nekk wouldn’t be much help anyway.”  

There had been a time when our troops were plentiful, and our warriors had a reputation across the land for being the swiftest and bravest. They took on whole armies without hesitation and guarded the air for civilians. The legends were quite spectacular. But with the rise of Ganon, our population had dwindled, and with it, the warriors. The King of Malice had us where he wanted us: weak and vastly outnumbered. 

“Just us, then,” Harth affirmed, cutting close to the edge as he sidestepped an obstacle. 

“Careful there,” I warned. “Can’t have you falling off before the fight even starts.” 

I could hear his laugh. “You won’t have to worry about that, Teba.” 

I jumped up the last of the few stairs and walked to the edge of the landing. We had made it safely, and it seemed the structural integrity of the platform was holding. In fact, the whole village was holding magnificently well. I had to commend the original designers of Rito Village for their superior architecture. 

I scanned the horizon for Vah Medoh. I could hear its screech in the distance, a sound that still managed to send a fresh wave of shivers down my spine each time, and every few seconds I could catch a glimpse of its shadow--but the beast itself, I could not see. 

“Find it?” I asked Harth, who had come up behind me. He was panting slightly, but I wasn’t worried about him. He was a strong and more than capable fighter. 

“No,” he said, drawing right up to the edge of the platform and leaning over. “Maybe it’s lower--” 

An unbearably loud shriek and subsequent rumble knocked us both off our balance as the avalanche was born anew.  _ Will there be anything left of the pillar after this attack?  _ I had to wonder as I caught Harth by the back of his armor before he fell off the edge completely. There seemed to be no end to the rocks. 

I craned my neck and peered into the sun as I searched the skies for the source of the noise--it had to be close by with a voice like that--but a cloud had swallowed the light and threw the entire landing into darkness. 

It took me a minute to fully realize that it was not a cloud. 

Now, with this whole ordeal and the entire village evacuating, I had expected the beast’s attacks to have been at least somewhat exhausted by now, but looking at the great black mass that soared overhead, I was forced to confront the fact that the time in between Tulin’s first call for me and now had only consisted of a few minutes, and Vah Medoh had not even yet begun its assault on our village--it had simply drawn closer. 

“Great Revali,” breathed Harth, and I was rather inclined to agree. Standing on the platform, naked to the full force of Medoh’s arrival, I was faced with a power I could not possibly begin to dream of. I was at a loss, momentarily, of my sanity, and had I not been carefully prepared for battle, I would have turned and fled. Once, this creature was a being of protection, a shield, carefully constructed to defend our lives at all costs; now, it could only be a servant of Ganon, and a creature of pure malice. 

“What do we do?” Harth asked lowly, though it was made clear as he primed his bow that he knew the answer. 

“We fight,” I confirmed, extending my wings for the second time today and relishing in the familiar pull of my muscles and the beat of the wind against my heart. “Ready?” 

He nodded, his normally goofy smile sobered by the sheer power of his opponent. I had to admire his resolve--lesser men would have cowered, but he had barely even hesitated. “Ready.” 

“Stay close to me. Find its weak points and target them if you can.” He nodded once more, gripped his bow, and together we launched into the open air. 

 

We were no match for the beast, as one may have predicted, and the next few minutes were even shorter than the first. Harth had tried to stay close to me, as I instructed, but just barely seconds into the battle, it became clear that that wouldn’t be an option for very long. Despite the continued resurgence of updrafts the beast created with each tilt of its wings, we found ourselves spiraling closer and closer down to the village. We bombarded it with arrows every chance we got, but the thing had a terrifyingly accurate targeting system that could match, if not best, our speed. It was all we could to do dodge the blasts. 

Harth was able to get in closer than I was, and as I managed to draw Medoh’s fire, he landed a hit into the side of the turrets. But it was far too deft for us, and before I could intervene, I heard a bone-chilling explosion, and a yell, and then Harth was plummeting to the ground. 

“No!” I cried, but I was occupied myself with a particularly clingy cannon. I would never have made it to him in time--he was  _ falling,  _ not gliding, hurtling towards the lake at an uncanny speed, so I dropped where I was in the air and instead focused all my efforts into reaching him in time. 

_ Revali, grant me strength,  _ I pleaded, hoping somehow that the late champion would have some compassion to spare for two struggling warriors as I pointed my wings and sped toward the lake, out of Vah Medoh’s range. I pushed with all my might, but I was moving much too slowly, and I was helpless to do anything but watch as my closest friend spiraled down and down--

There was a flash of blue-green overhead. 

_ No, no,  _ a voice chastised me.  _ You’re doing it all wrong. You can’t  _ force _ your way through the air. You must channel it through you. Let go.  _

And then I could feel it, I could really feel it. Somehow, I was no longer trying to slice my way through the skies but was carried along on its power, soaring faster and faster with each gust. I extended my talons as I drew nearer to Harth, and with the very last of my strength, grabbed hold of his limp body and guided us to the ground where we landed in a heap. 

_ Not bad,  _ the green-blue voice acknowledged, fading from my mind.  _ Some day, you may even be almost as good as I am. _

Seemingly satisfied with the destruction it had caused, Vah Medoh let loose a final warning screech and ascended higher and higher above the village until it had disappeared into the sun. It seems we had narrowly missed a certain doom, for now. 

“Harth,” I croaked, managing to crawl over to him. I shook him gently as I scanned his body for signs of a fatal injury. He had sustained a nasty gash on his left wing, staining his navy feathers black, and as I pressed a few feathers to it, my own wing came back bright red. “Hey, Harth. Wake up. Look at me.” 

Slowly, he stirred. His eyelids fluttered open. I breathed a sigh of relief. He was conscious, at least. “Teba…” he murmured, dazed. “What happened?” 

“We were no match for Vah Medoh.” I bowed my head. “I’m sorry. I never should have let you come with me. It’s my fault.” 

“No,” he groaned as he struggled to sit up. “It’s mine. I was too careless in my attacks. I got closer than I should have. If it wasn’t for me…” 

I huffed. Despite our protests, on the inside, we both knew that what had happened was inevitable. That was our task: to fight to protect the village and the people that we loved. Getting hurt came with the territory. It could have just as easily been me that lay bleeding on the ground. 

“Ohhh…” Harth exhaled in pain as he gave up trying to sit upright and laid back down. “I just… I just wanted to protect Mollie. I couldn’t stand the thought of that _thing_ flying around above us, ready to attack on a whim.” 

“I know,” I said quietly. I did know, I knew all too well the fear of not being able to keep a loved one safe. “Trust me, Harth. It won’t be there for long.” I turned toward the sun for another glimpse of Vah Medoh, but could find no trace of it. I knew though, that it was up there, even now. I could feel its eye on me, watching, waiting to strike. And when it did, I would be ready. 

“I’ll make sure of it.” 


	2. The Others

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teba receives a summons and learns that there's actually a world outside Rito Village.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...so it's been a while.

“Teba!” 

I landed hard on the wooden planks, cursing as my bow clattered to the ground beside me. The sound of my wife’s voice was not what I wanted to hear right now. I needed more time to train. 

Though I knew I would be disappointed with the results, I turned to look at the range behind me. I had shot a grand total of twenty targets, a record low. It was said the late champion Revali was able to break at least four targets in the same second, yet I could barely even break two.

_ More,  _ I told myself, turning my back in disgust. I needed to do more, to train more. It had been only a week since Vah Medoh’s assault on Rito Village and, despite my warnings, the Elder Kaneli had moved the flock back into their roosts on the pillar. I knew the divine beast was circling overhead, waiting for the next opening to strike, and I had to be ready when it did. With Harth injured, I was the only warrior left capable enough to deal a significant blow—that was not a denunciation on the other warriors, they were simply young, and lacked the years of experience I possessed. 

But clearly it was not enough. Each time I flew, it was getting harder and harder to allow the wind to flow through me as it had when I was fighting Vah Medoh, as if the effects of the voice was wearing off. 

That voice… I tried to remember the sound in my head, but it slipped further the harder I reached, like a dream that disappeared soon after waking. I remembered that it was blue and green and a little… condescending. I remembered that it came as quickly as it had left. I remembered that it had seemed strangely familiar. That was all. 

“Teba!” Saki called again as she drew closer to the flight range, and I sighed. I picked up my bow to hang on its mount as my wife climbed up the ladder to the cabin. 

“Yes?” I said, more tersely than I had meant to. Saki was used to my gruffness, however, and so my tone didn’t even phase her. She offered an envelope to me. 

“This is for you. Kass dropped it off.” 

“Kass is here?” I asked, surprised. The traveling bard didn’t often come by the village, even though he had a wife and five children. I always liked him, despite the fact that his constant singing often got on my nerves. 

“He heard of the attack and stopped by to check on Amari. He said he brought this from Kakariko village.” She waved the letter at me and I took it, ripping open the seal. “Who’s it from?” she asked, coming up behind me. 

“Someone named... Impa,” I replied, scanning the letter. It was written in scrawling script and meticulously stamped with the famous symbol of the Sheikah. “She wants me to come see her.” 

Saki was silent. From the twisting of her hands, I could tell she wanted to take back the letter, but she sighed. “Kass said it was urgent.” 

“I’m not going,” I decided, throwing the envelope carelessly onto a cabinet. Leaving Rito wasn’t an option right now, no matter how badly a foreign old lady needed me. I needed to train more, and I needed to be able to protect my people. 

“Teba…,” Saki murmured, wrapping her wings around me. I reluctantly relaxed into her. “I think you should go. It seems important. It could be about stopping Vah Medoh.” 

“I can’t leave,” I insisted. “What if something happens? Harth is injured, and the others won’t be enough--” 

“They’ll be enough,” Saki interrupted. “We already know that we can all escape to the stable very quickly if needed, and besides, you put too much pressure on yourself. The village isn’t your responsibility alone.” 

“What if the stable isn’t far enough?” 

“Then we’ll go further. Teba--look at me. Look. I promise you, we will be safe.” Then, as if I wasn’t conflicted enough already, she added, “We still have that trip to Lurelin, and we’ll never make it there if Vah Medoh isn’t defeated. We all have faith in you. Have a little faith in us.” 

I hesitated, then pulled back. “You can look out for yourselves?” 

“Yes,” she said, and the determination I saw in her eyes was the last bit of push that I needed. 

“Okay,” I said, pushing back the feathers on my head. “Okay. I’ll leave tonight. The journey itself shouldn’t take more than a day if I fly quickly. In the meantime…” I reached for my bow again, so that I could get in the last few moments of training, but Saki stopped me. 

“No. You need rest. Come back to the roost, and let me cook for you again. You can go in the morning.” She smiled reassuringly. “You have a long trip ahead of you.” 

I longed for the bow, to feel its flexible limbs beneath my grip, to feel the steadying lightness in the air as I aimed and released… but the pull of the hammock was stronger. Saki was right, I  _ was _ tired, physically and mentally. I did need sleep, and though I knew that my exhaustion wasn’t one that could be completely cured by a single night’s rest, I let her draw me away from the weapon. 

“Come on,” she said, and shivered. “It’s freezing here. Let’s get you warmed up.” 

I nodded. “Yes,” I replied, and followed her out of the hut. “Let’s.” 

  
  


I stole away early the next morning, as the sun rose on our little village and the lake below glinted in the morning light to make the whole place sparkle. 

Saki and Tulin were sound asleep, bellies full from last night’s hearty meal, and I gave both of them a last brush of my feathers before I strapped on my armor and my bow and my blade and took off from the East landing. 

Saki had been right, my trip was a long one, and it gave me plenty of time to deliberate over my plan for the next couple of days. Whatever I was needed for in Kakariko, I wasn’t planning on staying long, but on my journey, I could use the opportunity to train. I spent the first hour or so constructing different drills I could try, visualizing my targets and how to hit them. 

It wasn’t long, however, before my thoughts began to wander as I flew over places I had never seen before. Being a guardian of the village, I had never strayed too far from home, and I was surprised to admit that the limits of my geographical knowledge were breached much more quickly than I would have expected. I had decided to fly South in an attempt to avoid the fallen Hyrule Castle and Ganon’s reach, but after I passed the Tabantha frontier, I was relying on nothing but my intuition. 

_ I had never been to Gerudo town,  _ I randomly realized, as I flew past the snow-tipped rock highlands. I had heard stories of it, of course, from Kass and Guy the few times they decided to stop home. It was an exquisite metropolitan, they had said, the prime oasis of the desert--with one catch. They had quickly, and once or twice, violently, discovered that no member of the male race was allowed within its walls. Kass had told me in a hushed voice that he had once considered donning the traditional Gerudo “vai” garb in an attempt to enter, but alas, his singing had become so popular that he was detected even before he managed to step foot inside. 

As I remembered this bit of information, another piece came to me. The town had no Elder that ruled over it, and a young girl sat on the throne. Riju, I believed. I had often wondered about her, how such a child had become so worthy of rule. I myself had never desired political power, only the kind you can gain on the battlefield, but from the stories I heard, it sounded as if she possessed both. I decided that I would like to meet her someday. 

I rested only once that journey, making a brief stop at a stable near what they called the colosseum before I turned Northward and continued on my way. 

I reached Kakariko just before nightfall. 

 

In the letter, Impa had instructed me to meet her on what was called Quatta’s shelf, a hill just outside the grass-peaked mountain grove the village was nestled between. I supposed she wanted to see me face to face before she allowed me into her village--a necessary precaution, I understood, especially with the news of our attack, which I expected had managed to travel to each settlement in Hyrule--but when I arrived, I saw no one in sight, save for what looked like a rather large fish. 

“Ah! Hello!” the fish cried, turning to greet me as I landed on the rock. From where we were, I could see most of the wetlands and the castle in the distance. “The third champion, and a Rito, no less!” 

A Zora, I realized he was, much taller than I had pictured them to be, and very red, towered over me with a beaming smile. He looked down at a pile of rocks on the ground, and addressed it, “Come, my young friend, the Rito are a noble race of warriors! There is no need to worry.” He grabbed my wing and shook it so hard I thought he might rip it off my shoulder. 

“I thought Zora’s couldn’t leave the water,” I said, bewildered, trying to steady myself. “And are you talking to--?”   
The fish laughed heartily and clapped me on the back. “You’re a funny one! No, no, we are amphibians, thriving on the land as well as the water.” He looked at the rocks again. “I implore you to show yourself. I promise no harm will befall you.” 

I blinked, once, twice, and the pile of rocks at our feet began to shift, a grinding sound emanating as it lifted into the air and exposed an orange underbelly, two disproportionally large arms and two legs, and a pudgy round face. 

“You must be a Goron,” I put together, staring down at the rock figure in front of me. He nodded silently. I had never seen one before, but I’ve heard stories about them as well. I couldn’t imagine that all Gorons were as small as this one, but if he were a… what did the Zora call it? 

“You said champion?” I questioned, turning back to the fish, who grinned eagerly. 

“Yes, I did! You are a descendant of the first great Rito Champion, Revali, are you not?” I opened my beak to respond, but he continued, “I believe I remember meeting him once when I was a child. He seemed very powerful then.” 

“I-you--” I was at a loss. Of all things, I had not expected to see a talking, gigantic shark and a walking rock. “Stop. Wait a minute. Who are you two? And how do you know Revali?” I demanded, irked by the fact that the Zora’s smile had not lost its blinding gleam with my tone. “He was alive over a hundred years ago, how could have--” 

“Ah, of course, how could I forget to introduce myself?” the Zora interrupted. This guy was quickly beginning to rub me around the edges. “I am Sidon, the Zora Prince.” His words were accompanied by a ridiculous pose and his unnervingly sharp teeth twinkled in the light of the setting sun. “And this is…” He gestured to the Goron. 

“I’m Yunobo,” he said, and I couldn’t help but stare at his abnormally large hands. “I’m the assistant to our village Elder,  _ goro.”  _

I acknowledged him. “My name is Teba, and I can’t stay long. Do you know--” 

“Teba!” exclaimed Sidon, taking my wing in his hands once again. I gritted my teeth. If I could actually manage to finish a sentence today, it would be a miracle. “Very nice to meet you! I have heard of the Rito, but I don't believe I've ever had the pleasure of meeting one as fine as you. Your people don't care for the water much, so--” 

“Alright, enough! _ ”  _ I snapped, yanking away from him. “One of you needs to tell me what’s happening, and where Impa is, or I will leave.  _ Now.”  _

The prince opened his mouth, but before he could speak, a sharp, clear voice sounded from behind me. 

“I see we are not the first to arrive.” 

I turned, my hand on my blade just in case, but it was clear that I would have no need of it. A young girl stood there, in a halo of orange sunlight. Her skin was dark and her long, bright red hair was tied up in the back. She was accompanied by a woman holding a spear and appearing much more fearsome. She had the poise of a trained warrior, and it was obvious this woman was some sort of bodyguard. They were both dressed rather uniquely, with light clothing not very well suited to the cooler temperatures Hyrule’s East often reached during the night. 

“Are you Impa?” I asked, though I had a gut feeling she wasn’t. As I had been scanning the pair, Sidon had already moved forward and took her hand in his. 

“Lady Riju, it is an honor!” he said eagerly, shaking it.  _ Riju,  _ I realized. The famous Chieftain of the Gerudo. I was impressed with her ability to hold her ground, though she did seem a little startled by the suddenness of his greeting. 

“It’s okay, Buliara,” she said when her guard snarled and brandished her spear. “Prince Sidon of the Zora, I presume?” 

“In the scales!” he said, beaming as he released her. “I expected you would come.” 

“Hold on,” I cut in, feeling very much left behind. “You two know each other?” 

Riju shook her head and explained, “We Gerudo and the Zora share the same trade partners, and with trade comes rumors. I have heard of him through stories my people bring.” 

“You flatter,” Sidon dismissed. “Lady Riju, by far, has a more widespread influence than I. I have often admired your remarkable leadership skills!” 

I looked her over once more. True, she did possess the poise of a strong leader, and there was an age beyond her years that shone through her eyes, though she seemed rather uncertain of how to respond to the Prince’s affections. 

“You all came alone?” she asked, and when we nodded our affirmation, she cast a pointed look at her guard. “I see.” Buliara gave no reaction. I hid a smile. It seemed as if this girl did not quite hold the level of agency in her life I had originally assumed. 

“Lady Riju, may I introduce to you the other champions: Teba of the Rito, and Yunobo of the Goron,” Sidon said, taking the liberty of pointing us each out individually. 

“Nice to meet you,  _ goro,”  _ Yunobo said, and I bowed cordially as well, then turned to Sidon. 

“You keep calling us that,” I continued, wondering if Riju would be just as in the dark as I was. “Champions. What do you mean?” 

Riju interjected, surprised. “You don’t know what he is referring to?” Apparently, I was the only one that was clueless. I never felt more like an outsider. I shook my head. 

“Like my sister, Mipha, the Zora Champion,” Sidon boasted, puffing out his chest. 

“And Lord Daruk, Champion of the Gorons!” Yunobo jumped in. 

“And Chieftain Urbosa, the Gerudo Champion,” Riju added. “And, as you should know, Revali. The Rito Champion.” 

“Yes,” I said impatiently. “But why call  _ us  _ that?” 

The three of them stared at me as if I were missing something painfully obvious. 

“Because we are the descendants of the first Champions,” Riju told me. “And now it is our turn to take on the title for ourselves.” 

I shook my head. “I don’t-I--No. No, I’m not related to Revali. You’ve got the wrong bird.” 

“All due respect,” Riju said gently, “But how would you know?” 

“Now hang on--” I started, but true to form, the Zora prince interrupted me once again. 

“Calm down, my friend!” he said with another clap on my back. “All will be explained in due time. Impa will fill in the gaps of your knowledge.” 

“Speaking of which,” Riju said, turning towards the way she came and shielding her eyes with a hand to the forehead. “Where is Impa?” 

“Yes,” I agreed. My deadline was looming heavily above my head, and I wasn’t exactly reluctant to leave these strangers. 

“Maybe we should go to the village to look?” Yunobo suggested, but I shook my head. 

“She would have written it in her letter if she wanted us to. And even if she did, I don’t have the time to scour an entire village.” 

“Maybe we should make a campsite!” Sidon said. “It is getting dark quickly.” 

“I wouldn’t be opposed to a bit of rest,” Riju assented, nodding to Buliara. “We’ve had a long journey.” 

“You must have as well,” Sidon added, turning to me. “Rito Village is quite a trip. Rest, my friend! We will build a fire!” 

“Absolutely not, I have to--” But despite my immediate protests, Sidon had already wandered off in search of wood, Yunobo had begun building a rock pile, and Builara had pulled a tent out of nowhere and began to set it up for Riju. I sighed. One night wouldn’t hurt, I supposed. My wings were feeling heavy and the lids of my eyes were starting to droop. 

I laid myself down in a soft, fluffy grass patch, which reminded me of home in Rito. As long as I was up first thing the next morning, I reasoned with myself as I yawned.  

As long as I… first thing… 

  
  


“Heavy sleepers, are we?” 

Acting on pure instinct, I snatched up the bow that was resting beside my head, nocked an arrow, and had it aimed at the intruder’s head before my eyes were even fully open, dragging along with me a gust of wind. 

In fact, there were two intruders, and though the second one shrieked and covered her eyes, the first merely chuckled. “I bring no harm.” 

Riju stepped out from her tent as I lowered my weapon. Before me stood an amazingly old woman, the top half of her face covered by a wide-brimmed hat. Though she stood on short, weak legs, she held her ground in the face of my bow. 

“Impa?” the Gerudo asked, yawning. “Are you the one who summoned us?” 

The woman smiled. “Yes, I am, young one. This is my granddaughter, Paya.” The girl bowed awkwardly, her face a bright red. “I have brought you all here to discuss with you a very important matter.” 

“Can we do it quickly?” I asked gruffly. She simply laughed. 

“Patience,” she told me. “I promise you, your people are sleeping just as peacefully as you were a moment ago.” I, in fact, had not been sleeping peacefully, as I was tormented by thoughts of Vah Medoh, so her statement did little to ease my worries. Nonetheless, I backed off. “Now,” she said with a nod. “Will one of you fetch Sidon? I wish to speak with all of you. And somebody nudge the Goron awake. I’m afraid he won’t wake up without a push.” 

Sidon had gone down to the river to sleep, claiming it was where he felt most at home, and after a silent battle with Riju, I was elected to go down and bring him back. 

I slid down the rocky mountainside, wings outstretched to keep myself balanced, and landed with a splash into a shallow and muddy puddle. My blade was sheathed and my bow was slung around my shoulder as I inched closer to one of the streams, searching for any sign of red in the green and brown marsh. 

“Sidon,” I hissed, not wanting to draw too much unwanted attention to myself. Stalkoblins were known to crawl out of their grave even this late in the morning, and I didn’t want to get caught unawares in the middle of a swarm. “Hey, fish brains!” 

After several moments of walking along each individual stream, I sighed. Seems like the guy had a better place to be--not entirely unlike me, I kept reminding myself--so I gave up and turned to fly back up to the others. 

I stretched out my wings, searching for a burst of wind, but before I could lift off, something moving in the distance caught my eye. It was large and glowed an eerie blue, and I could see just the tip of it as it prowled around the wetlands. Right away, it gave off an ominous feel; so much so that the feathers on the top of my head began to rise, and I dropped low behind some foliage to see if I could get a closer look. 

I wove in and out through the trees, thankful for the low settling fog that provided me with some much-needed shelter from the roaming thing. I crouched behind a crumbling rock wall several yards away from it and pulled out my bow. I nocked an arrow. 

Peering out from overtop the ruins, I squinted through the mist. The creature, I could now see, was more machine than animal, though it crawled on its spindly legs much like an insect, and the one blue eye that was placed in the center of its head resembled that of a hinox I had encountered once not far from my village, except it was obviously more precise. It was moving unsettlingly fast across the wetlands for such a large creature and it made the fog glow eerily as it turned its back to me and began to travel in the opposite direction. 

Now was as good a time as any, I thought, and I raised my bow. I stepped out from the cover of the wall and shut one eye. From here, I could hit the back of the head, but that would not be good enough for a creature like this, I knew. 

I inched closer, careful not to make any noise that would alert it, until it paused for a moment and I was nearly close enough. Now, I could fit at least three arrows through the chink in the armor that glowed blue--I presumed that was its weak spot--so I drew the string, took a breath, and--

“No,” Sidon whispered next to me, appearing out of nowhere and pressing a hand to my chest. I frowned. 

“I can make it,” I shot back. 

He shook his head. “Not against this one. That is a Guardian, and no amount of arrows can stop it.” 

I looked at him skeptically, but for the first time since I met him, he was completely serious. He kept his gaze trained on the creature as its head roved left, right, and then it disappeared back into the fog from which it came. 

I relaxed my bowstring. “A Guardian?” 

“Yes,” he answered, his eyes lingering on the point where it vanished for a second longer. “A servant of Ganon during the Calamity. Its range is terrifying long, with stamina unheard of and armor no weapon can pierce. Long have they plagued the lands of Hyrule. In fact,” he said, casting a gaze towards me, “I’m surprised you didn’t come across one in your travels. You really haven’t seen a Guardian before?” 

My beak tightened. “No.” 

Before now, the extent of Ganon’s reach had been his pools of malice and the attack by Vah Medoh. I had no idea that these beings even existed, or that they were so formidable. 

“How do you beat it?” I asked. Surely, if they had been around for so long, and our civilization hadn’t been wiped out completely, there must be some way. 

“You don’t,” Sidon answered. “They’ll leave you alone if you stay far enough away, but Hylia help those who unassumingly get too close.” He sighed and dropped his hand, and to my surprise, he looked… old. I could see the years in his eyes and in the heaviness in his shoulders. “Come,” he said, and tried to force a smile. “Let’s rejoin the others! I feel refreshed after a long night of sleep.” 

He turned before I could see the smile fall, but I knew it did--just as I knew that I was not the only one that had a fitful rest the night before. But Sidon held himself proud and tall as he climbed back up the mountain, myself alongside him, and I respected that. 

Somewhere in the fog, I could hear the hum of the Guardian as it stalked the wetlands in the distance, under the haunting red glow of Hyrule Castle. 

 


	3. Riju

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically they just party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm adding this chapter--despite it being sorely unedited--because I'm not a very predictable writer and I'd rather have it out there and rough than wasting away in my unfinished archives. If I have some free time I'll probably rewrite it, but until then... *gestures broadly*

I was never one for stories, though some made the exception. I always was instructed to focus on the present, that I had no business losing myself in the world of fiction. Buliara was very strict about that. I thank her for it, I am better for it, though there are some nights when I need to escape from my world. 

I turned to the journals of Urbosa in those times. I would drink in the methodical script that filled those old pages with power and force of will. Even her words were legendary, her battle tactics, her concerns for her people, were all august. I told myself I was studying her leadership so that I may better myself. It wasn’t entirely true. I think I simply enjoyed hearing the stories of my ancestor. 

I didn’t know if I would have the patience to sit and listen to the elder fortune teller’s story of how Hyrule fell, as I have heard it many times and it had grown to be old. There were many more pressing matters to discuss. But the others had already sat down and turned an attentive ear, so I composed myself and listened as well. 

“There are two parts to my tale,” Impa began. “The first takes place ten thousand years ago, in a Hyrule as great and prospering as you can imagine. There was a prophecy in this land, of a dark beast that would arise and bring ruin to it. The people were not afraid, however, because Hylia was watching over them. With her guidance, they constructed great beings of vast power that could protect them at all costs. These machines, they called Guardians.” 

“Wait a minute,” Teba interrupted. His legs were folded under him and his hand toyed with the sheath of his blade. Confusion and anxiety always seemed to hover just behind him in a muddled cloud, but now they were clearly displayed in his knit eyebrows. “The Guardians were good?” 

Impa nodded. “They were. They fought alongside the Hylians, and alongside four other divine machines that had been built in the shape of a lizard, a bird, an elephant, and a camel. I believe you are familiar with these as well.” 

I didn’t have to respond. I was. Around me, faces were grim. Teba clenched his fist. 

She continued, “They waged a great war against the evil Ganon, pushing him to the brink of defeat, until finally, the champion of the Hylians, who wielded the Sword that Seals the Darkness struck a final blow against him. The Princess of Hyrule channeled Hylia’s power through her and imprisoned Ganon far below the Earth, where he remained for a long time.” 

“But Ganon came back,  _ goro,”  _ Yunobo whispered, as if he were too afraid to say it loudly. 

“Yes,” Impa said. “One hundred years ago, another prophecy warned the people of the new Hyrule that a creature long dead would rise again out of the void. But they were also told that help would come from the people of old, from weapons that were buried long ago. They began to explore more than they ever had, excavating the Earth, until they found the long-buried beasts of the past.”

But Ganon was prepared, and he had devised a plan. When the Hylians began to attack him, he took control of their Guardians and their divine beasts and turned it against them. The Champions fell, and Hyrule along with it. Fortunately, however, the Princess saved the Hylian Champion as he was right on the brink of death. She put him in what is known as the Chamber of Restoration, where he still sleeps today, and managed to hold off Ganon’s full attack. She fights him to this day.” 

I dipped my head out of respect for the Princess. I have heard tales of her struggles since I was a child, how she sacrificed herself to fight against Ganon and protect us from his wrath. An honorable vai. 

But I could see that not all of us had known about her. Teba being the most prominent.

“To this day?” he asked, frowning. It seemed to be a permanent expression of his. 

“Yes,” I cut in. Ignorance is the lesser of the sins of males, but it does not always make the being innocent. His lack of knowledge was, above baffling, beginning to become irritating. “Princess Zelda is the savior of Hyrule and she fights the evil forces with her own power. She is incredibly brave, and should be venerated.” 

“But she grows weary,” Impa added. “She has been fighting all this time, waiting for the Hylian Champion to awake and slay Ganon once and for all.” 

“Great,” Teba said curtly. “Then all we need to do is wait for this… this Champion to wake up and kill the monster. What does that have to do with us?” 

I wondered that as well. I knew I had a role to play in this war, but if it really was as simple as the fortune teller made it out to be… 

“Therein lies the problem,” answered Impa. “The Hero has been asleep for far too long, and now... I fear that Ganon’s malice has touched him too strongly. I fear he will not wake.” 

I raised my eyebrows, just as Sidon exclaimed “By Hylia!” and Yunobo gasped. 

“What will happen to us, if he does not?” I asked, forcing myself to keep a straight face, despite my worry. “Who will seal the darkness?” 

Impa met my eyes with the knowing look of a being many times my age, and for a moment, I felt like an infant again, with much to learn. But it was a kind look, I decided after a second, a mentoring one, rather than condescending. 

“You will,” she told me. “You all will,” she added, turning back to the others. “You will each need to take on the responsibility of fighting Ganon and sealing him under the Earth once and for all.” 

I simply blinked as I processed her statement. I am usually very quick to adapt and respond to new information, but this news was just beyond me. 

“We have to fight Ganon?” Yunobo asked in a small voice. “I-I don’t know if I can do that.”

“You can,” Impa reassured him. “You all have the strength and power of Champions. If anyone can beat him, it is you.” 

Yunobo did not seem to be put at ease by these words, but when Sidon moved forward and put a hand on his shoulder, he relaxed just a bit. “You are more worthy than you think you are,” Sidon said gently. “More than deserving of the Champion’s title.” Yunobo smiled up at him, and for a moment, my gut tugged. Worthy…

Meanwhile, Teba had been vehemently shaking his head. “Wait a minute. You want  _ us  _ to fight Ganon?” He gestured. “The four of  _ us?  _ There’s no possibility of us even getting close to him.” 

“We can train,” I interjected. “We can learn to fight him.” 

He rounded on me, beady eyes flaring. “I don’t have  _ time _ to train! In case you’ve forgotten, Ganon has set a plague on my village! Vah Medoh has already attacked us once, and I need to be there if it happens again--” 

I gritted my teeth. Though I always tried to be diplomatic, his words were trying my patience. It was obvious he wasn’t willing to calmly talk this out. “Listen here, Rito,” I said evenly, as I stepped closer to him. Buliara, who had been standing quietly off to the side, warningly started forward, but I pushed forward anyway. “In case  _ you’ve  _ forgotten, your village isn’t the center of Hyrule. Ganon has cursed us all--we have all had to deal with our respective divine beasts.” 

I pause. “Vah Naboris never sleeps. She storms all day and night, striking anyone and anything that tries to cross the desert. No one can get through and our trade is dwindling. I’m sure the other champions have had tremendous struggles as well.” 

“Rudiana makes Death Mountain erupt,” Yunobo added helpfully. “We were forced to build shelters from the constant avalanches.

Sidon sighed. “It has yet to stop raining since Vah Ruta has entered our waters.” 

I pointed to them. “All of our homes and families are in danger, and yet we do not back down from the task before us. We are all willing to risk our  _ lives _ so that Ganon may be stopped because this is  _ greater _ than us, this is greater than any one person. What makes you think you have the right to say this is not your responsibility? What makes you think you can turn your back on all of Hyrule?” 

I bit my lip and took a step back. It had been a while since I let my words fly off my tongue with such ferocity like that… I had to admit it felt good. 

Teba was glaring at me in reproach. No one said a word. 

“I--” he started, then hesitated. We waited. His shoulders slumped. “You’re right,” he admitted heavily, steeling his resolve. He turned to look at each of us individually. “You all have had to battle the beasts?” Each nodded as we made eye contact. “I am sorry. I didn’t mean to trivialize your struggles,” he said as he bowed deeply. The other Champions and I relaxed a bit, and I realized I had been holding my breath. Buliara loosened her grip on her spear. 

It was Sidon that broke the silence, accepting Teba’s apology with his hearty optimism. “It is okay, my friend! We are all unsettled by the troubles that have befallen us. In truth, I myself tend to get slightly irritable when the sun doesn’t shine quite right.” 

“Yeah…” Teba grunted, but it was without anger. I smiled to myself. So direct confrontation works him with. I will keep that noted for the future. 

“Well now,” Impa mused, and her face was unreadable below her large brimmed hat. “If that has been settled, why don’t you all come down to Kakariko village? Rest and relax while you prepare for your journey.” 

Sidon bowed gratefully. “We would very much love to take you up on your offer,” he said, and the others nodded their assent.

“Good then.” Impa gestured to the girl, Paya, who had been crouching in the corner. She stood up immediately. “Paya will lead you down into the village.” 

“You aren’t coming?” I asked politely, but she shook her head. 

“No,” she said, and smiled. “I’m going to watch the sunrise.” 

 

If there was one thing the village of Kakariko was good at, it was festivities. As the four of us (and Buliara) traipsed down the mountain, we were greeted by lively traditional Sheikah music and banners and streamers strewn between the buildings. The whole place had clearly been meticulously cleaned and tidied, and each house looked pristine. 

Being the Chief of an objectively large metropolitan, I was no stranger to parties. However, it was quite nice to be received in such a warm fashion, especially after such a harrowing time. 

These people, both Sheikah and Hylian, wore such welcoming expressions--far from the worried faces of my people back home. Don’t get me wrong--I would love my hometown with all my being, but at times, it’s wearisome ruling under the shadow of my ancestors. Especially in my young age. I’ve managed to make my way so far, but I can see the flickers of doubt in the faces of each of my subjects. With the Yiga being stronger and more troublesome than ever, and now the plight of Vah Naboris… 

 

_ Gripping tightly to the reins of my dear sand seal Patricia, the two of us battled our way through the violent sands that churned under Naboris. Lighting struck several times, each bolt closer than the last and far too near me than I would like. I had Urbosa’s Thunder Helm balanced carefully on my head, which could protect me from the brunt of the electric attacks, but with each strike, my confidence wavered. _

_ I clutched my spear. I could do this. I  _ had  _ to do this, for the good of my people. I was the Chieftain of the Gerudo, it was up to me to defend my city--  _

_ A hoof slammed down into the ground in front of me, and Patricia and I careened wildly out of the way. I screamed in fear and anger and stabbed at the heel with my spear, but with every jab, she only roared louder.  _

“Why are you doing this?!”  _ I shouted above the winds. Was this a test for me? Must I prove myself yet again before I can finally gain the affection of my people?  _

_ Three bolts struck in rapid succession before us, and Patricia swerved in fear just as I reached out for another strike at Vah Naboris, and the sands bucked and rolled and the wind ripped the reins out from my grasp and I was sent flying, my shield and spear disappearing into the cloud of sand.  _

_ I was dazed. Lost in the midst of swirling attacks and thunderous roar. Tears were forced from my eyes and I did little to fight them back. For the first time, I felt true, chilling fear. I couldn’t move.  _

_ There was a flash of bluish-green, and I felt a powerful presence near me. It spoke two words, two words that filled me with the strength and reassurance I needed:  _ “Get up.” 

_ A hoof dropped next to me and I jumped, rolling quickly out of the way. Instincts took over and I stumbled to my feet, staggering through the maelstrom of sand and electricity. Fortunately, I had managed to keep hold of the Thunder Helm.  _

_ I knew that I could do no more against Naboris, my only goal now was to get to safety. I had no way of knowing which way Gerudo city lay, so I picked a direction and ran, skidding away from the massive feet that threatened to obliterate me. Naboris shrieked.  _

_ Above the mayhem, I heard a voice. Someone was calling my name.  _

_ “I’m here!” I whipped wildly back and forth, desperately searching for the source. “I’m here!”  _

_ “Riju!”  _

_ I managed to locate the direction it seemed to be coming from and changed my course, dodging and weaving through the sand until I could see a familiar figure amongst the sands.  _

_ “Buliara!” I cried, lunging the rest of the way and falling into her arms.  _

_ “Chief Riju! Come, we must get to safety!” She pulled me along with her, and I watched several other Gerudo warriors charge at Naboris to hold off her attacks.  _

_ “What about the others?” I shouted above the noise, but Buliara barely threw a glance.  _

_ “They will be okay! They have much more training than you do,” she reminded me, and the comment stung. She was right, after all. My efforts against the Divine Beast were at best meaningless. At worst, I had endangered all the people I cared for.  _

_  I wanted to cry, as Buliara dragged me into the safety of the city, but the tears would no longer come.  _

 

Buliara placed a hand on my shoulder, quietly snapping me out of my reverie. I gave her a grateful look. It seemed no one else had noticed my momentary lapse, but then again, Buliara was always more discerning than most. 

The other Champions were all in differing states of acknowledgment of the festivities. Teba wore a face of masked disdain, Yunobo was in the midst of his hesitation, and Sidon was eagerly shaking hands and greeting the villagers that he towered over. 

“Champion Riju, it’s an honor!” a woman exclaimed as she approached me and took my hand. I quickly composed myself and put on a polite smile. 

“Thank you,” I responded. “I look forward to getting to know all of you.” 

Buliara must have been giving her a look, because she quickly smiled and drew back, making her way over to greet Yunobo. 

 

It wasn’t long before the villagers had created a space for us to have a meal, and the smell of eggs and bread and steamed fruit pies wafted throughout the enclosed town. Sidon and I both engaged in conversation at the tables, while Teba and Yunobo hung back, and it wasn’t long before we had become well acquainted with quite a few people. Most of them made good conversation, despite a few eccentricities, and by the time breakfast was served, Sidon had them roaring in laughter. I had to admire his natural friendliness. It was so easy for him to get people to open up. I myself always felt that my friendliness was slightly forced, a facade I had to put on as ruler, but he seemed to genuinely enjoy connecting with people. 

The food was delicious and homely and soon even Teba and Yunobo were chiming in. 

The festivities lasted the entire day in celebration of our arrival (and, just as strongly, as a much-needed break from the fear of Ganon). There were games and music and, in the evening, many drinks. The children enjoyed watching Yunobo squash melons with ease and splashing with Sidon under the waterfall; a bemused Teba found himself the object of several affectionate women and the Sheikah warriors, who tried to prove themselves of equal stature by regaling everyone who would listen with increasingly ridiculous stories; I sat with the women, who taught me some of the household chores such as weaving and basic cooking. I had never any need to learn these tasks, but I was surprised to find them quite enjoyable, especially with company. At one point in the day, a multitude of cuccos escaped from a villager’s pen, and it took several hours to find them all. Apparently this was not an uncommon occurrence.

All too soon, the music began to die down. Most of the children had been put to bed and several of the adults were beginning to retire as well. A few stragglers stuck around to finish conversations and their drinks, but they too started to nod off to sleep. I was exhausted. I had laughed and talked much more today than I have in a long time and, with a full stomach and such a comforting atmosphere, was feeling the strong pull of sleep. 

Clearly I was not the only one. Yunobo was yawning and Sidon stood up from his table. 

“I am going to see if there is a place for us to stay,” he declared, and amicably padded away. 

Buliara nudged me. She had not partaken in any of the festivities today, despite my urgings. Sometimes her stoicism worries me just as much as it comforts me. “You should go with him,” she suggested. “Extend your gratitude to our hosts.” 

“I will,” I replied, distractedly brushing her off. I had taken a quick headcount of our gang and found one to be missing. “Did you see where Teba disappeared to?” 

Buliara frowned. “I believe I saw him heading towards the woods above us. Near that old shrine.” 

I nodded and rose. “Thank you. If Sidon returns before I do, would you move my belongings into our quarters?” 

“Chief Riju, please allow me to accompany you--” 

“No,” I cut her off. “If I am to bond with my fellow champions, I must do it alone.” 

She drew back and nodded formally, but I knew her well enough to see the flicker of hurt in her eyes. I felt bad for brushing her off so, however, I knew that what I had said was true. My journey as a champion is something I have to do alone, whether or not she thinks I can handle it. 

I turned and walked away, leaving her behind to helplessly watch my retreating form. 

 

I went where she had directed, up the pathway that clung to the mountains that enclosed the village. It wasn’t a far trek before I found the white-feathered Rito crouched and closely examining the old mossy ruins of a shrine. 

“So this is where you disappeared to,” I said, watching in amusement as he spun about, his wing flying to the bow on his back. I recognized the swift movements of a trained warrior: it wasn't surprise that he displayed, but a well-polished reaction to possible danger. I would easily believe it if he were the greatest warrior in his village. 

When he saw who it was, he dropped his guard slightly. “Hello, Riju.” 

I noted that he didn’t add any title to my name. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard it on its own. Rather than be offended, I realized that I liked it. It reminded me of my mother… 

“What about this shrine has you so curious?” I asked him, steadily moving the conversation onward. 

“So you’re familiar?” he answered. “You’ve seen it before?” 

I frowned. “Not this particular one, no. But the Gerudo have one just outside our city. I believe I saw a few on my way here as well.” 

He paused, mulling that over. In the depth of his thoughts, not that he was no longer clearly out of his element, I could tell that he was quite acute--more than I had originally given him credit for. “Rito has one like it too. We’ve never known what it was for. Are you saying there’s more?” 

“Yes. From what I’ve heard, there are hundreds scattered across Hyrule. You’ve… never seen one?” 

He shook his head, avoiding my gaze. “I’m quickly learning that my world was much smaller than I had believed it to be,” he muttered. 

I stepped closer. “That’s not your fault,” I told him. “You were busy protecting your village.” I tried to reassure him, but he only stiffened and turned to glare at me. 

“I don’t need your pity,” he said gruffly. “My problems are my own.” 

I drew back. “I didn’t mean--” 

“I know you didn’t,” he replied, somewhat softer. “I may not know much now, but… I’ll learn. I want to learn.” 

I kept a smile to myself. I liked this side of him. Having such a strong and determined presence will be a great asset to our team. “You know, legends say that these shrines were meant for the Hylian Hero. They were to be used for training.” 

“Really?” he said, curiously stepping close to the panel that rested outside most of the shrines. 

“But since they aren’t being used by him…” I continued, and this time I did smile as I raised my hand toward the sky. “Maybe we can force our way inside?” 

I snapped my fingers and, summoning the same strength that I had felt since that day I fought Naboris, brought a bolt of lightning crashing down onto the panel. Teba jumped back. 

It fizzled, cracked, then lit up a bright orange, then blue, and the door to the shrine slid open. 

I stepped forward and threw a glance at Teba. 

“Shall we?”   
  


**Author's Note:**

> A couple of things:  
> -I may not update very frequently. I've got a couple of the first chapters already written out, but I'm getting to a pretty busy point in my life. I will let you all know when I plan to update, though!  
> -Thank you to my readers! I know that LoZ is kind of hard to write about, as there isn't a really specific storyline to follow. I'm going to do my best to be consistent with canon and the world. If you catch a detail I missed, feel free to comment! I'm by no means an expert on BoTW lore.  
> 


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